{{item.title | uppercase}}

A Choice…to be Defined by Loss or Refined Through it.

The journey of widowhood is a path none of us anticipate walking, yet when we find ourselves on it, at some point we will face a choice: Will this loss define me, or will I be refined through it? The difference lies in how we navigate the pain, the grief, and the shift in our identity.

Early in my grief, I felt completely consumed by the loss of Norm. The word “widow” felt like the only thing left of who I was. My life felt overshadowed by his absence—every thought, every conversation, every step forward weighted with grief and sorrow. It was as if the pain had taken over my identity, leaving no room for anything else. The weight of that grief was suffocating, and for a long time, I struggled just to make it through the day. I was lost, overwhelmed, and unsure if I would ever feel whole again.

It would have been easy to let widowhood define me, to let it become the central theme of my life. And for a time, it did. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the story I wanted to live out. I didn’t want to be forever defined by my loss, nor did I want grief to be the prevailing focus of my life. Instead, I longed for something more.

• For my experience to serve a purpose, to be used for good.
• To grow through the pain, to transform rather than simply endure.
• For God to use my loss to refine me and for Him to be glorified through it.

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”
James 1:2-4 (ESV)

I don’t count it all joy, yet, and the pain has not disappeared. It lingers, sometimes quietly, sometimes roaring back when I least expect it. But over time, I’ve noticed a shift within. I am no longer just a widow. I am a woman who has endured excruciating loss, yet I am also a woman who is healing, learning, growing, and finding ways to give back, reach out, and to love better because of it. The sorrow has not destroyed me; rather, through His guiding hands, it is reshaping me.

The thing is, grief has a way of hardening us if we let it. As the years pass, if we continue to allow widowhood to define us, bitterness and resentment can take root. The pain can be so overwhelming that it feels easier to build walls around our hearts than to risk feeling anything beyond sorrow. But when we cling to grief in a way that refuses to heal and refuses joy…we become trapped. Trapped in unhappiness, in isolation, in a cycle of sorrow that never allows us to move forward.

I’ve witnessed this firsthand. The moments when the pain is so consuming that it feels like an identity rather than an experience. The moments that turn into months, then years. When we allow grief to define us, we risk losing ourselves to it completely. A heart closed off to healing becomes hardened, justified in its sorrow yet incapable of receiving joy.

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame…”
Romans 5:3-5a (ESV)

But something beautiful happens when we choose to let God use the grief to refine us instead. Rather than clinging to bitterness, we create space within ourselves for His healing. We learn to lean into Him and allow ourselves to feel and work through the pain instead of resisting it, trusting that on the other side, something meaningful awaits. This is not a quick process, nor an easy one. It requires patience, courage, and faith. It means choosing, day by day, to seek healing rather than to set up camp in suffering.

As we allow God to use our grief to refine us, resilience and endurance take root. We develop strength—not the kind that avoids pain, but the kind that emerges from walking through it, one step at a time, with God by our side. Our hearts become more flexible, our spirits more open, and our strength of character deepened. We begin to see our loss not as the end of who we are, but as a part of our story that shapes us into who God is calling us to be.

Widowhood does not have to define us for the rest of our lives. Instead, it can be a crucible—a place where we are refined, where we find unexpected strength, where we discover a new depth of compassion and purpose. Though the awareness of our loss remains, so does the possibility of growth, of hope, and of a life that still holds beauty, meaning, and purpose.

Let us pray:

Heavenly Father, refine our hearts through suffering and use us for Your purposes. Allow us to see Your work in us and give us hope as we move forward into the life You have called us to live. In Jesus’ name, Amen.